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CHAPTER 16
“You idiot…”
“Why would that be your fault?! The fact that you couldn’t save me was the author’s decision, not your mistake!”
“It’s a bit of a bother, but perhaps you could observe another class today. Swordsmanship, perhaps… Ah, there’s also an architecture class in a bit.”
[Lian, Rusfell blocked the inside with a barrier. I think I could break through it using magic… but then that old man would definitely notice. What should we do?]
‘So he is experimenting?’
Rusfell had a habit of putting up barriers before conducting experiments to create the perfect environment.
‘…Still, you should be able to hear something, right?’
Was it because I heard he was suffering from guilt? My chest pounded with an uneasy feeling.
Back then, whenever this sort of feeling came over me, someone would get hurt—or something bad would happen.
Just then, a command appeared:
[Step 3: (With a disappointed expression) Then I’ll go with architecture.]
I had originally chosen the magic class because the awful author told me to.
The author was also the one who led me to Rusfell’s lab.
‘And now you want me to change it all of a sudden?’
A terrible feeling surged within me, impossible to ignore.
I didn’t know why.
It was just a sudden thought—Does a character from Part 1 really need to show up in Part 2?
The command popped up again like a warning:
[Step 3: (With a disappointed expression) Then I’ll go with architecture.]
I grabbed Oswald’s arm just as he was about to turn around.
And immediately, the penalty began.
A crushing pain made me lose my breath.
“Urgh!”
I barely managed to stay conscious.
If I faint here, Rusfell is in danger. That wasn’t just a feeling anymore—it was certainty.
“Open… the door.”
“Pardon?”
“Break this door down, now!!!”
Startled by my sharp tone, Oswald blurted out a spell.
“Fireball!”
BOOM!
The door exploded into pieces with a deafening blast.
I charged through the choking smoke and ran inside.
“…!”
Rusfell was hanging by a rope.
He hadn’t set up the barrier to control his experiment.
This crazy bastard.
“Fel!”
Rusfell opened his tightly shut eyes.
His dark, lifeless pupils darted between me and Oswald.
“P-Professor Rusfell! Why would you do something like this…!”
Oswald ran over, frantically lifting Rusfell by the legs.
His wrinkled face flushed bright red, veins bulging from his forehead.
I swallowed the lump of blood rising in my throat and screamed.
“What are you doing?! Cut the rope!”
“Ah, r-right!”
Oswald quickly muttered another spell.
In the next moment, the rope holding Rusfell snapped cleanly.
Thud! Crash!
“Whoa!”
Rusfell and Oswald collapsed in a tangled heap on the floor.
“Gah! Huff, huff! Cough!”
“Y-you fool, you’re going to burst my stomach… Get off, now…”
My legs gave way, and I nearly collapsed.
I bit the inside of my cheek and straightened my back.
Then I approached Rusfell, who was still sitting on Oswald’s stomach.
Rusfell looked up at me, panting heavily.
The moment our eyes met, I raised my hand and struck him.
SMACK!
His pale cheek turned red and swollen instantly.
SMACK!
The other cheek got a matching handprint.
Oswald stood between us, flustered and unsure of what to do.
“G-goodness! Your Grace, please calm down! Professor Rusfell, are you alright?”
Rusfell touched his cheek slowly without saying a word.
He wasn’t the type to just take a slap lying down.
Normally, he’d curse the person out and throw a magic missile at them.
But now, there wasn’t even a trace of anger—or of his former bold self—on his face.
His sharp, upward-slanted eyes were dead, and his lips were cracked and pale.
His cheeks were sunken, and his skin had lost its luster, rough like a dried-up beach.
The haughty-looking magician, with a personality even worse than his appearance, was gone.
All that remained was a lifeless shell.
The sheer despair pouring off him was suffocating.
He was like a thread stretched to its breaking point—one tug and he’d snap.
I bit my tongue hard.
Was it betrayal? Disappointment? Rage? I didn’t know what this emotion was.
My insides boiled to the point of bursting.
Even with the penalty, the heat in my body was so intense I didn’t pass out.
I swallowed down the rising blood again and said:
“To try something like this in a place with children… Professor Rusfell, have you lost your mind?”
“Your Grace! Professor Rusfell would never—this must be some misunderstanding…!”
“Misunderstanding? Are you saying I imagined all this?”
When it was clear he couldn’t talk his way out, Oswald turned on Rusfell instead.
“Professor Rusfell! Apologize to the Duchess! Now!”
“Why… cough! cough! Ugh!”
Rusfell tried to speak but broke into a fit of coughing. His voice was barely functional after what happened.
“Good heavens! My student! Are you alright? Let me see—hmm?”
Oswald suddenly looked stricken with worry and flailed about.
He had been angry just moments ago, but now he was full of concern.
Rusfell pushed Oswald’s hand away with a hoarse voice.
“Please move, Master.”
“You insolent brat! I’m only trying to—hmph! Professor Rusfell, you don’t look well. Let the dean check you himself. Come now, lift your head.”
So they were master and student.
No wonder Oswald was so protective of Rusfell.
“Let me see how badly you’re hurt, you little rascal!”
“Stop it already.”
Rusfell turned away and moved his lips slightly.
An average person wouldn’t have noticed, but I knew exactly what he had done.
If you looked closely, the rope marks on his neck were gone.
Not healed—he had used magic to transfer the wound elsewhere on his body.
‘He probably moved it to his arm.’
Sure enough, Rusfell rubbed his seemingly uninjured arm—and suddenly inhaled sharply.
“Does anyone else smell blood?”
“…!”
Did he smell the blood on me? I subtly turned away, lips pursed.
“Huh? Blood? Are you hurt somewhere?”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’? You’re the only one here who could be bleeding.”
“There’s that woman too.”
“W-woman?! Mind your tongue! That’s Duchess Adrienne Ibrante!”
“Adrienne?”
“Gasp! You mustn’t say the Duchess’s name so casually!”
“…”
I had expected Rusfell not to recognize Adrienne.
He never paid attention to anything outside of his interests.
‘Some things never change, huh.’
While I chuckled bitterly inside, Oswald suddenly shouted:
“Professor Rusfell! What is with your attitude?! Do you know how worried the Duchess was because of you?! Are you going to keep acting so rudely?!”
Even while scolding him, Oswald kept sneaking glances at me, as if trying to handle the situation before I completely lost it.
He wanted to defuse the situation himself before I did something drastic.
“I’m ordering you as the dean. Apologize to the Duchess immediately!”
Despite the stern voice, his gaze toward Rusfell was full of love and concern.
His student had grown into a master-class mage and defeated the Demon King. Of course he was precious to him.
But now that student had fallen into depression and thrown his life away—he had every reason to worry.
That was probably why he brought Rusfell back to the academy—to keep a close eye on him.
‘How could you do something like that with a teacher like this watching over you, Rusfell?’
I could understand him mourning my death.
I could even tolerate the guilt he felt—though it made my blood boil.
‘But this? This is too much! How could you try to throw your life away because of me, you idiot!’
The one who always acted like he was better than everyone!
I turned my head abruptly to stop myself from shouting, afraid it would just make the blood scent stronger.
My fingers trembled. It was the first time I’d ever hit a friend.
But if doing that would help Rusfell come to his senses, I was ready to beat him into a pulp.
‘Hoo…’
As the surge of emotion began to settle, another question arose.
‘What is that damned author thinking?’
Did they want to save Rusfell? Or kill him?
Or maybe they just wanted to see if I’d follow the command even in a crisis?
‘Well, whatever. I saved him. Now I just have to keep him on the right track.’
I clenched my trembling fingers into a tight fist and looked around.
‘Unbelievable.’
Rusfell, a man with obsessive cleanliness, would never tolerate this kind of disorder.
Especially for magical experiments—he was fanatical about keeping things clean, as even a speck of dust could alter the outcome.
But this place was a mess.
Papers were scattered all over the floor, not a single book was properly shelved.
It wasn’t dirty—probably someone cleaned occasionally—but it was in such disarray there was barely space to stand.
‘Why is it so dark in here?’
The large window was completely covered with blackout curtains, blocking all light.
Even the lighting was dim.
It wasn’t cozy—it was suffocating and dreary.
‘Even a normal person would get depressed living in a place like this.’
My heart ached.
The fact that Rusfell had let his lab fall into this state…
The fact that he had let himself deteriorate to the point where this seemed normal…
But most of all, the fact that it was all because of me—that hurt the most.
[Step 3: (Covering nose with a handkerchief) Does Professor Rusfell really use his lab like this?]
Perfect. I’d been bothered by the smell of blood.
I pulled out a handkerchief from my clutch and covered my nose and mouth.
“Does Professor Rusfell really use his lab like this?”
